By Summit FM Contributor Matt Anthony

I felt like we were breaking some sort of law. My grade-school classmate, Chris, and I were slithering through the upstairs hallways of his parents’ house. Destination: The room of Chris’s older brother, Andy.  Underneath the turntable sat a stack of equalizers and power amps, and next to them the largest set of speakers I had ever seen. 

After angering my father by bringing two used Beatles albums into the house after a garage-sale score, my music worldview was about to be drastically changed even more: on that cool Autumn afternoon, I was introduced to The Who. 

They call them seminal moments. You know what I’m talking about. The first time someone paid you to shovel their sidewalk. The first time you engaged in fisticuffs with another kid. The first time your lips pressed on someone else’s.  

Mine included the first time I was introduced to distortion. 

And there it was, laid out in front of me, courtesy of those enormous speakers. The 4-chord blast at the beginning of ‘I Can’t Explain’. The fuzzy cacophony of ‘My Generation’. The chest-rattling rumble of John Entwistle’s bass during ‘The Real Me’. Sure, The Beatles were great. But this. This was life-altering. This was raw and angry. This broke the boundaries of decency.  

I mean, listen to Pete Townshend while standing in front of those Ampeg amps, coaxing that feedback symphony out of them, like a snake charmer with his pungi, dancing with it and serenading it, until he rockets us back into reality with three riffs of relief. 

This was better than that first bite of a sausage pie from The Pizza Oven: this was salvation. 

History differs in chronicling the genesis of this phenomenon. Some say it was Lightning Hopkins’s fault when he committed the mortal sin of turning up his amp. Some say it was Les Paul’s competitive response to Leo Fender’s invention. (or Fender’s answer to Paul’s intricate fretboard wizardry!) And some say it was just a plain old accident. (Hell, in ‘The Ongoing History of New Music,’ Alan Cross devoted a whole episode to ‘distortion’!) 

That Fall day in Canton, Ohio, in that bedroom with the gigantic monitors, would cement my addictive lust for fuzz, growl, and sustain. 

No, I’m not a one-trick pony. I’m grateful for all the different styles and genres of music. Everything from Barry Manilow to Pantera. Dolly Parton to XTC. Willie to Waylon to The Waitresses. I’ve been moved by the majesty of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5, the film noir patina of Miles Davis’s Kind of Blue, and the hypnotic stylings of Ladysmith Black Mambazo.  

Ever heard the choir during Divine Liturgy at St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Mogadore? Life-affirming. 

Sure, I can be transfixed by Ralph Mooney sitting in front of a pedal steel guitar. The same way that I can be brought to tears by Karen Carpenter during the Holidays. And Wes Montgomery? Fuhgeddaboudit. 

But I knew what buttered my toast.  The voluptuous vixen in my life was, and always will be, the over-driven audio signal path. 

The Jensen coaxial speakers in my ’71 Olds Cutlass are probably still warm from the workout that the Boston debut inflicted on them back in 1976. I can only surmise the torture they experienced during Zen Arcade on ‘repeat’. And, oh my, those poor Koss headphones, the ones that sat on my cantaloupe-crate of vinyl in the attic. The misery they must have endured on that 100^th playing of Never Mind the Bollocks. 

But while I’m thankful for the complete works of distortion art, I’m grateful as well for the magical moments. The magical seminal moments. Brian May’s righteous chord on top of Freddie’s piano roll at the 4:53 mark during ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. The introductory body-slam salutation from Alice in Chains on Dirt. The luscious grind-core strumming from Adam Jones at 9:20 on “Pneuma’ from Fear Inoculum. And, no, my gratitude does not exist in a vacuum. Check out Momma’s version of “Rockstar’ from inside the mask room of Chicago’s Fantasy Costumes: at the end of the song, almost thirty seconds of glorious, sumptuous, dessert-like sustain! 

(Did I mention Jim Chenot and I standing next to a stack of speakers at Nautica, just as Dave Davies unleashed amplified absolution on us at the start of the Kinks show? That chord caved my chest in.) 

This day, I light copious amounts of incense to whatever celestial being promulgated the forces of nature to render me helpless to a force bigger than myself, bending my will and my ears to the satisfying, soul-cleansing wonder of the overdriven tube. The saturated reverberation of two drumsticks shattering a Remo drum head. The singular tsunami of noise as one’s hair is being blown back by a wall of delectable sound. 

By Chad Miller - Summit FM Music Director

What's everyone been listening to out there? So much new music coming at us, so little time... However, these songs that might fly under the radar to most are what I've been diggin' these past few weeks!

Like what you hear? Please email me at chad@thesummit.fm and let me know what you think!

By Summit FM Contributor Marc Lee Shannon

It has been a long, strange trip that has led me to this small room with microphones, headphones, and a mixing console in front of my now 5-year-old MacBook Pro. The sounds of the Pretenders waft in the air from the nearby Tavoli radio as I sit in the Summit's Edit Studio B, where I am often left to write and ponder the meaning of my life—at least what my life has in store for lunch anyway.  

Back to the Pretenders. The song "Brass in Pocket" takes me back to a day in Pasadena, California, in late March 1980. Just about to graduate from the Hollywood-based music school, G.I.T., I had left my home on Liberty Avenue in the west Akron neighborhood near Firestone HS (Chrissy's Alma Mater) 18 months prior, and I was searching for a post-school apartment. I found myself on a tranquil street when that song came on in my beat-up brown and tan Subaru. I remember the scent of the jasmine trees and a feeling of hometown pride sweeping over me in a way that only a dreamer of dreams can experience when he sees another from his 'burb "making it." I loved the song because it represented the hope that my dream could come true. Many years later, I still feel the same way. Exactly the same.   

In the many ticks of the times since then, Ms. Hynde has proven her pedigree by sustaining a career, making authentic music, and cutting her trail in her way for over 45 years and some more than 12 LPs. Though she has now set down roots in the UK for some time, she occasionally returns to the Rubber City. At one time, she had a restaurant and condo in the downtown area of the Northside District. Her song “My City Was Gone” seems like a faint reminder of how much has changed since those days in the 1980s and how the city has morphed and changed since I left with all those great big dreams in 1979.  

The tales from some of the senior staff here at The Summit FM speak of her visits and ability to be kind and… prickly. One story was of the times she would pop into town, stop by, and use her sharp wit like a wire brush on a pair of suede chukka boots. Clearing the grit, brushing the chaff, and then sharing a kind, soft compliment as a dichotomy that seemed to say, in essence, you can't predict me! She was colorful and tough, just like the several generations of folk who worked in the factories and spent their Wednesday nights knocking down bowling pins and cold Rolling Rock Beer in neighborhood strip mall joints. 

Occasionally, she was available to comment or give a brief interview, but you had better be on your game and ready, Freddy.  

So after all these years, why does it matter so much to all of us from this city, the ones that grew up here, migrated here by job or other chance, or the ones like me who purposefully left the big city lights to return to what our soul told us what the right place, the right path? It matters because an artist like Ms. Hynde from your hometown is made with the same stuff: a green work shirt and trousers, working-class work ethic, and sensibility, speaking a truth that only resonates with that loyal, faithful tribe of believers from the many different Akron neighborhoods and that are in fact actually the same place, Anytown, USA. It's your place, my place, a place that shares the small-town Friday night familiarity of a hamburger place at Wallhaven, a legendary pizza place in the downtown Northside district, or that family-owned restaurant with a name that no one really knows how to pronounce.  

It's called home.  

Home matters. Home is the same if you're a legendary singer or a local heavyweight playing at a renovated theatre in Kenmore's hopefully renewed art/music district. Home is heart; home is a memory of what you used to be and what you are now after years of faithfully rowing the river of a dream that everyone thinks is crazy, except you.  

It’s knowing that there is a place for you at that familiar breakfast counter, no matter what. A place where you can live your life, strum your own song, grin that shaking-your-head smile, close your eyes, and slip back in time to a "remember-when" comforting sigh. Home is where we are all temporary strangers, waiting to discover that with a few more minutes of conversation, a few more stories, and a few more laughs, we are friends, after all.  

Thank you to all who atteneded to make this the biggest and best 330 Day Concert yet, and thanks to all the folks who helped make it possible! We'll see you next year!

Setlist – Ohio’s Greatest Hits
March 30, 2025 – Akron Civic Theatre – 6:00 PM Showtime

SET ONE:

1. Funk 49 – Brian Lisik                  
   Joe Walsh & The James Gang (Kent, OH)
   
2. I Try – Katy Robinson
   Macy Gray (Canton, OH)
   
3. The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore – Cody J. Martin
   The Walker Brothers (Scott Walker – Hamilton, OH)
   
4. Sway – Anya Van Rose
   Dean Martin (Steubenville, OH)
   
5. The Hand That Feeds – Candace Campana
   Nine Inch Nails (Cleveland, OH)
   
6. I Put a Spell on You – Willis Gordon 
   Screamin’ Jay Hawkins (Cleveland, OH)
   
7. Walking in Memphis – JD Eicher
   Marc Cohn (Cleveland, OH)
   
8. Lido Shuffle – Jeri Sapronetti
   Boz Scaggs (Canton, OH)
   
9. Time Won’t Let Me – Michael Weber
   The Outsiders (Cleveland, OH)
   
10. All of Me – Emily Bates of The Shootouts
    John Legend (Springfield, OH)
    
11. Shut Up and Dance With Me – Jeff Klemm
    Walk The Moon (Cincinatti, OH)
    
12. All by Myself – Jackie Popovec of The Vindys
    Eric Carmen (Cleveland, OH)
    
13. Amie – Alex Bevan
    Pure Prairie League (Waverly, OH)
    
14. Ghost Riders in the Sky – Ryan Humbert of The Shootouts
    The Outlaws (Freddie Salem – Akron, OH)

SET TWO:

1. Rosewood Bitters – Marc Lee Shannon
   Michael Stanley (Cleveland, OH)
   
2. Drive – Tracey Thomas
   The Cars (Benjamin Orr – Cleveland, OH)
   
3. Que Sera Sera – Shanna Delaney of By Light We Loom
   Doris Day (Cincinnati, OH)
   
4. Crystal Blue Persuasion – Carlos Jones
   Tommy James & The Shondells (Tommy James – Dayton, OH)
   
5. My Hero – Hannah Crandall of TRUSS
   Foo Fighters (Dave Grohl – Warren, OH)
   
6. Fast Car – JD Eicher
   Tracy Chapman (Cleveland, OH)
   
7. Whip It – Jeff Klemm 
   Devo (Akron, OH)
   
8. Lonely Boy – Ryan Humbert of The Shootouts
   The Black Keys (Akron, OH)
   
9. Back on the Chain Gang – Jackie Popovec of The Vindys
   The Pretenders (Chrissie Hynde – Akron, OH)
   
10. Love Train – Don Dixon
    The O’Jays (Canton, OH)
    
11. Grand Finale Medley – All artists
    • Nobody But Me – The Human Beinz (Struthers, OH)
    • Mony, Mony – Tommy James & The Shondells (Dayton, OH)
    • Twist & Shout – The Isley Brothers (Cincinnati, OH)
    • Shout  - The Isley Brothers (Cincinnati, OH)

Thanks to our incredible house band:

Erin Vaughn – Music Director, Electric & Acoustic Guitar, Keys, Mandolin
John Anthony – Electric & Acoustic Guitar
Kevin Martinez – Bass
Dylan Gomez – Drums
Rob Rodriguez – Keys
Ryan Humbert – Acoustic Guitar, Event Producer
Ryan Humbert, Emily Bates, Jeff Klemm – Backing Vocals
Justin Tibbs, Mark Russo – Horns

By Dave Swanson - Summit FM Contributor

There is a reason why ABBA sold millions of records and why people are still talking about, listening to, and obsessing over them some fifty-plus years since their debut LP and the forty-plus years since they called it a day. The reason is, they were f'n great! They were, in many ways, the perfect 'Pop' act. Great songwriting, wonderful harmonies, and melodies performed impeccably. They had style, image, and a sense of humor and could avoid a head-first dive into saccharine-laced debris while maintaining a sense of smartness about their writing, even when it veered a bit too close to popping the gum bubble.

The band had two albums under their belt, and they had a number one hit with 'Ring Ring' and a number two hit with 'Waterloo,' which won them the Eurovision Song Contest Award for 1974. The other singles released, however, failed to light as much fire. They could have become a footnote, with their shining moment being the Eurovision win, but band leaders and songwriters Benny Anderson and Björn Ulvaeus were never going to let that happen.

On August 22, 1974, work began on what was to become ABBA’s third album, titled 'ABBA.' The album presented a 360-degree view of what ABBA was and or could be, with material ranging from the purest pop to glam rock, reggae, and a grandiose prog-esque instrumental. It was all put together seamlessly, creating a hit album and a way forward for the inspired combo.

The album starts with the now classic 'Mama Mia,' a song which looms large in the story of Abba, but more for the Broadway musical and film than the actual song or single. It was one of the seven, count 'em, seven singles released from the album over the year following the LP's release.

Elsewhere, 'Tropical Loveland' dips its toes into reggae sounds five years before Blondie would take the mix into the charts. 'S.O.S' is, quite simply, a perfect record. Engaging verse into triumphant chorus shifts from minor to major, and on and on. It did make the US Top 20, but certainly deserved a better fate. 'Australia, however, was where Abba could do no wrong. Countless Abba singles hit the top of the charts in the land down under, 'S.O.S' stayed there for 14 weeks.

You want rock action? Try 'Hey Hey Helen', with a heavy, distorted guitar riff and straight-ahead drums driving it home. I swear, this could have been a hit for Sweet! 'I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do' and 'Bang-A-Boomerang' are pristine pop, while 'So Long' stomps back to 'Waterloo'-style terrain to round out the LP.

For the remainder of the decade, and into the first couple steps into the 1980s, Abba's reputation, fame, and fortune would continue to grow alongside their artistic ambitions. History, however, has been their best friend, as in the years since they folded up shop, Abba has become more well-known and respected than they ever were in their time in the spotlight. It is an amazing catalog, and while the first two albums were nothing to sneeze at, the self-titled third is where things really came together to showcase the sound and style of this offbeat foursome. The music lasts, stronger than ever, to this day.

By Dave Swanson - Summit FM Contributor

Have you ever been to a thrift store? Goodwill, Salvation Army, and so on? Chances are, you have been, and chances are, you have seen this record there. At any given time, over any selected year over the past several decades, Herb Alpert's classic 'Whipped Cream and Other Delights' can be found practically every thrift store and record store in the USA. I'm not kidding. It might be a law somewhere on the books. 'Whipped Cream,' 'the soundtrack to 'The Music Man,' and 'The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart' were always to be found.

In the early 1960s, it became a novelty for homes to have a 'hi-fi stereo' with a handful of LPs, almost as conversation pieces. Popular soundtracks from Broadway and films, a comedy record or two, perhaps something exotic like Martin Denny or Webley Edwards doing Hawaiian music and Tiki themes, and the ever-present Herb Alpert.

Throughout 1960, Herb and the Brass released thirteen albums, only two of which missed the Top 20, while nine made the Top 10, with five of those hitting number one! Truth be told, that's pretty incredible. People were just drawn to that sound, and it was the perfect background music for parties, gatherings, a lazy afternoon, or an energized evening. Herb was everywhere.

One thing about Alperts style was it was instantly recognizable! There were imitators and other horn players who tried to steal the spotlight, but it was all about Herb and the Brass. After releasing a handful of singles between 1958 and 1961, Alpert was going nowhere, so at that point, he took matters into his own hands and started A&M Records with his friend Jerry Moss. At the same time, Herb had been inspired by the event of a bullfight and the way the music played a part, and decided to record a song called 'The Lonely Bull.' it was to be the first release on the new label, setting the stage for so much to follow. Released in the summer of 1962, 'The Lonely Bull' shot up to #6, introducing the world to this new talent.

Over the next few years, more singles and albums hit the radio and record store shelves with varying degrees of success, and they all followed a similar template. The Beatles and the rest of the British invasion were happening. Still, Herb had his niche, so it was no surprise when, in 1965, his fourth LP, 'Whipped Cream and Other Delights' hit number one with the hit single 'A Taste Of Honey,' a cover of the title song of the play and a song which the Beatles had recorded on their 'Please Please Me' album. Pop culture was truly a living and breathing thing, working on various levels back then! Wrecking Crew regulars like Hal Blaine on drums, Carol Kaye on bass, and Leon Russell on piano provided the music.

Part of the phenomenon of this particular LP, however, had as much to do with the cover art as it did with the swingin' sounds inside. The legendary sleeve features a photo of model Dolores Erickson wearing chiffon, shaving cream, and nothing else. As the story goes, she and her husband were friends of Alpert. She was 29 and three months pregnant, so she was well covered with shaving cream, used due to slower melting time rather than actual whipped cream. Though she was fully covered, the shot maintained a sexy allure that people seemed fascinated by. She was paid $1500 for the modeling gig and a lifetime of notoriety that followed.

"Whipped Cream," "A Taste Of Honey," "Lemon Tree," "Tangerine," and others all contributed to a classic LP of the era, one that has had a life all its own in the 60 years since then. After its initial release in April 1965, it remained in the Billboard Top 10 for 61 weeks.